Captivated By His Prey
by swearbystendan
Summary: Written in conjunction with Captivated By His Predator. Brendan doesn't like to be messed with and so devises a minor plan to make Danny see the error of his ways- when he tries to cut out dealing with Brendan. However, things don't go as planned, not when a certain delicious individual comes down the alleyway Brendan chose... *A vampire fic*
1. Chapter 1

Keeping to the shadows, Brendan zoned in on his next target; a lad in his twenties, earphones plugging his ears, effectively making him oblivious to his surroundings.

It would be easy for Brendan to get close enough, ridiculously easy. Sometimes Brendan liked a challenge, but if an opportunity like this was presented to him then he certainly wasn't going to ignore it and search for something that gave him with a bit more of a chasing game.

No, if something was offered to Brendan on a plate, he would definitely take it.

Brendan was closing in on this unsuspecting fellow, and, checking no one was about, got into, what would be deemed as, this man's personal space.

From this closeness, Brendan saw blood pulsing under the skin of his neck and could smell the sweet scent that only blood had.

A hand wrapped around the side of the man's neck and he jumped, obviously startled at the touch.

The problem was that he didn't move quickly enough, and Brendan had already tilted his head to the side and sank his teeth into the skin.

Nothing could compare to this heavenly taste, not for Brendan. As he sucked and sucked, the thick blood seeped down Brendan's throat, somewhat reviving him to a full state of awareness.

Once he'd had all he needed, Brendan let go of the lad; pulling his teeth from him and tossing him to the side.

The back of Brendan's hand wiped the excess blood from around his lips and he proceeded to lick each finger clean.

Skulking away, Brendan checked the lad was out of sight and he was, hidden away in the depths of the shadows.

When the lad would return to consciousness, Brendan would be long gone and so would any recollection of what had just occurred.

Brendan was glad that this one hadn't been a noisy drink; he didn't think he would have been able to stand it; not whilst he was already irritated.

Brendan had a job to do when he returned; a necessary one and, truth be told, one that Brendan would enjoy doing.

Despite his agitation, a smirk appeared on Brendan's face.

(((x)))

Once back inside the abandoned warehouse- which was where Brendan kept his possessions and was somewhere ideal for him to stay, for now- he immediately went to make a call.

The sooner, the better, Brendan thought.

After two rings, the line picked up, but there was no answer.

"I know yer there, Danny." Brendan spoke calmly into the receiver. "An' listen Danny, I've got some news for ye: don't mess with Brendan Brady. It will not end well, for _ye_. And guess what? I've got somethin' that needs doin'… tomorrow."

Brendan waited for some form of response. He didn't have to wait long.

The worry was laced throughout Danny's words; he knew what Brendan was capable of, had seen it before. Even though Danny may think _he_ was something of a 'bad man', compared to Brendan he was actually a saint. And that was saying something.

"What...what is it you want me to...do?"

"There's the spirit Danny boy." Brendan wished he could be doing this face to face; it was so much more fun. Maybe next time.

"I know yer been ignorin' me Danny an' yer know what, it's not gonna be happenin' anymore."

Brendan had been annoyed when Danny had begun dodging his calls. So he'd had to go and have a little chat with Danny and set him straight; make him learn that it was under _Brendan's _say so that Danny could stop doing jobs for him and _not_ the other way around.

It had been the night before that Brendan had decided to follow Danny and coincidently it was also the evening Brendan was expecting a large shipping of cocaine. He had wanted to get Danny involved in this, make him, or more so his contacts, take the risk.

Not that there could really ever be any risk for Brendan. For starters, no one would ever be able to catch him, let alone trace him.

Still, Brendan had wanted Danny to be dealing with it, and because Brendan had so nicely let Danny in on this little import, Danny would have been giving Brendan some, no, _most_ of the cut.

It just so happened that Danny had begun ringing some people who worked for him, supervising the same delivery of drugs that Brendan should have been in control of.

That told Brendan everything; Danny was trying to cut out Brendan-the middle man, so to speak- meaning that he would be getting a much larger share of the profits.

Well, not if Brendan had any say in it.

Brendan continued, "I want somethin' retrievin' from an alleyway."

It was in a dodgy area, not too far from the warehouse Brendan was staying.

He let Danny know the timings of collection and the whereabouts of the package. When Brendan explained it was under a bin, Danny had to ask how it had ended up there.

"Someone double-crossed me. Called the police and led me down there. S'alright though, I got 'em, made it clear no-one messes with me."

Danny understood the not-so hidden threat behind those words- Brendan was going to mess with whoever Danny sent to collect this package.

Knocking Danny out of his thoughts, Brendan finished, "Be sure to send someone, Danny, else I'm comin' fer ye."

(((x)))

There was plenty of time for Brendan to lie in wait when he arrived down that alleyway the following evening. He had the encounter all planned out in his head.

When the lad Danny would send came, Brendan would allow him to walk down the alley, but not to let him attempt to get anywhere close to the bin that the parcel was 'supposed' to be under. Brendan would scan the area; make sure there was nobody sniffing about. And then he'd make his move.

The lad wouldn't know what'd hit him.

There was no need for Brendan to kill him, just knock him about a bit; send a message to Danny- that if he tried to get one over on Brendan Brady again, he'd be sorry.

On the other hand if Danny didn't send anyone, then Brendan could have his fun with Danny tonight.

At the moment, Brendan was crouching in the darkness, on a higher level than the ground; upon a rickety ledge that stuck out at an odd angle, but it was a place Brendan wouldn't be seen if someone looked up.

In the finish, Brendan had been there for an hour before a lad made an appearance. He came at the time that Brendan had wanted, so Brendan needn't have come so early.

There was no way Brendan could see what the lad looked like, his head was tilted down. But Brendan could tell that he was making a job of just walking down the alleyway.

They'd be here all night if he didn't get a move on.

Brendan decided to have a little fun and hopefully make the lad speed up. He broke off some chunks of wood from the ledge he was crouching on and bounced them off the opposite wall.

The echo certainly had the desired effect, Brendan saw the man look over his shoulder and his legs moved quicker.

Now it was time for Brendan to jump down. He did so landing lightly on his feet, not making a sound and just sauntered down the alleyway after the man. The man though was still walking at a very slow pace only halfway down, so Brendan caught up with him easily.

There was a light flickering on the opposing wall and, if it could be helped, Brendan didn't want to be seen, so he moved over to where he would block the light from his face.

Above, the noise of a helicopter rang in Brendan's ears. It was quite close to the ground and so disturbed the alleyway.

Leaves were whirled into the air, dust became unsettled and new scents were thrown at Brendan.

One in particular stood out. The one of this man in front of him; the man that was now looking at him.

It was a good thing Brendan had a high level of restraint; this lad's scent was mouth-watering. More delicious than anything he'd ever smelt. Brendan was able to keep his feet fixed to the ground though, and held his breath to assist the resistance.

Brendan flicked his eyes across to the lad. This was the first time Brendan was able to see his face and the man's eyes were conveying fear right back to him.

Tilting his head to the side, Brendan noticed the man retreat back a couple of steps and he knew that although they were quite close, the lad would not be able to tell what Brendan looked like because of the poor lighting, but he would see Brendan's outline.

It may have been too dark for humans, however it wasn't for Brendan. He could see the features of the man's face perfectly. And he knew he would remember them from now on, mesmerising as they were.

Brendan was so captivated, he didn't realise until it was too late that the helicopter was circling back around. And Brendan lost all focus: of the lad, of restraint and of all thoughts of the plan. Although any of those thoughts had disappeared as soon as his nose had smelt the appetizing aroma.

Out of character, Brendan was startled when the man that had been stood before him made a run for it; brushing past Brendan and racing up the alleyway eons faster than when he had come down it.

At the point Brendan did realise he should follow the man, he'd already legged it out of the alleyway and into the light and the view of other people, so, in order to follow, Brendan would have to keep to the shadows.

* * *

Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it :)

If you haven't already, it would be ideal for you to read my other story Captivated By His Predator which follws Ste's POV (kind of) within this story.

Thanks to the reviewers of Captivated By His Prey, you encouraged me to write this quickly :)

Feel free to leave any questions and/or cmments and I'll answer them for you.

Bye Bye Lovelies xxx

-SwearByStendan-


	2. Chapter 2

Somehow Brendan's feet were carrying him forwards without his conscious say so.

And it wasn't even at a slow pace- no, Brendan was moving at a high speed in hot pursuit of this man.

Once they reached the main street, which was flooded in light and numerous people, the man unexpectedly stopped in an attempt to get his breath back. As Brendan had been closing in, he had to retreat a few steps and scale up the side of the nearest building, aided by the uneven bricks that stuck out, to ensure his concealment.

Brendan could hear the lad's rapid intakes of breath as he placed his forearms on his thighs and then, just as suddenly as he'd stopped, he abruptly started up again, racing onwards.

A new lease of life had appeared and Brendan was taken aback; this lad was a livewire. The usually well-groomed dark hair on Brendan's head was becoming something of a bird's nest in no time at all, as he flew over bumps and ridges on the roofs of buildings to keep at an appropriate distance from this man- to evade being seen.

At times, Brendan's view of the man was obscured but he could always hear the heavy padding of his feet on the tarmac and distinct rough breathing- even from this height- because his heart was beating furiously and Brendan was listening to the hammering of it against his chest.

In all honesty, Brendan didn't feel as though they had been running for too long once the lad returned- somewhat relieved- to what Brendan presumed was his home, as Brendan had been concentrating hard on him. It wasn't that Brendan couldn't have recalled the way they had come because he could have, down to every last twist and turn. However, the little specific details that he would have usually picked up on, he hadn't paid any attention to on this run. And, realising this was true, Brendan was a little shocked.

Normally he didn't give his absolute full focus to anything.

And with this man he quite obviously had.

After a bit of deliberation, Brendan brought it down to the fact that he'd had a job to do with this man. Yet one that he had not completed. And for the exact reason, Brendan couldn't be too sure.

Similar to how he wasn't sure why, instead of acting to change that fact now by going in this man's home and so teaching Danny a lesson, he was skulking all around the perimeter of the flat listening in as the man scurried about his home, making sure everyone was safe and eventually falling asleep in what must have been his kids' bedroom from the shapes Brendan could make out from behind the netted blind.

Brendan's head was really screwed up.

Perhaps all this confusion was down to a lack of nourishment, as he had only had a small drink the previous night; there just hadn't been enough time to find any other victim, and that one man had been- for Brendan- in the right place at the right time.

That wasn't necessarily the case for the man.

Thinking about having another feed made Brendan's throat start to burn, so he had to abandon this post of essentially keeping watch and began sprinting to the place that initially entered his mind- somewhere not too far away that provided an ideal atmosphere for him to slip away: loud music, dim lighting and a wide choice of people...of feeds- the club in the village.

It wasn't someplace Brendan often went to, not that he went to any place where there was a lot of people too much- they would start to recognise him and being known by these sort of people was not what Brendan was interested in.

These were the lowest of the low- the people getting smashed on a late Sunday night, nowhere to go in the morning- except to buy drugs off their dealer by the looks of half of them.

Brendan watched as women threw themselves forcefully at men, all inhibitions lost and the men drunkenly, yet gladly, appreciated the attention that they wouldn't have gotten had the ladies been sober.

From across the room, a bloke in his mid-twenties made eye contact with Brendan and began to wonder over. It was obvious to Brendan that this man was off his face, yet it didn't seem to faze him, in reality the drink gave him far more confidence than he would have usually possessed. Perhaps too much though as, nearing Brendan, the man stumbled over an invisible object on the floor, and the half-full glass he was already precariously carrying flew out of his hand and splashed its contents all up the front of Brendan's suit.

It was a fortunate circumstance that no-one heard the man's yowl, due to the alcohol, or something harder, not allowing them to have at least one coherent thought, as Brendan yanked the collar of the man's shirt and dragged him out of the door that Brendan had so recently entered from.

The haze in the man's eyes did not go unnoticed by Brendan, nor did the way his head rolled, so Brendan found it easy to push him up against the wall outside, his arm restraining the younger man across his neck.

Brendan's sharp rasps of breath turned into much deeper inhales as the scent of blood took him over.

His mouth reacted, teeth nipping the skin and his tongue licking the remnants once he'd finished.

The added taste of alcohol in the man's bloodstream had given Brendan's drink an added kick. It was like he'd had a drink of alcohol second-hand.

Brendan still had to deal with the disoriented man who was seconds away from falling into a slumber. A resolution was quickly found from some littered bottles which Brendan kicked across the ground, and he then dropped the dead-weight of the man next to them.

Giving his lips a little lick and smoothing his moustache, Brendan strolled swiftly away from the scene. It was only once he was out of eyesight of any potential onlookers that he began to speed up.

More often than not, Brendan found that his thought process was able to become much more comprehensible after he'd had a drink and he was able to think in a logical way.

Although his mind seemed to be clearer and the thoughts weren't as disjointed as they had been for the previous few hours, Brendan still wasn't able to easily think about anything else, so he conceded and began to devise a plan, because something odd was going on –least of all in Brendan's mind- and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

(((x)))

Back at the lad's home, Brendan noticed that the kitchen window was slightly ajar, something he had failed to spot on his previous circuit around the flat, proving how tangled Brendan's head had been.

His hands gripped the base of the frame, shoved upwards and the window lifted with ease. Pulling himself through, Brendan instantly stepped into a sink filled with unwashed crockery. Thankfully though, he refrained from making too much of a stir.

Brendan lightly jumped down onto the carpeted kitchen floor and took in the interior of the flat. It was obvious straightaway that the lad was not very wealthy; he had a pitiable kitchen and hideous wallpaper. Brendan had even noted his netted blinds with their flower designs on were old-fashioned.

What suddenly seemed to hit him, after a few seconds, was the overpowering scent of the lad. The scent that had had Brendan's mouth watering not too many hours ago and did even now. He could control himself though- he was Brendan Brady and he could control his instincts. Now he needed to press on.

Brendan had a wonder about the flat; firstly to the lounge area and it was obvious that there were small children living in the flat, from the plentiful amount of colourful toys strewn over the floor.

His eyes did a scan of the room and picked up on a presence within. There was a heavy breathing coming from the sofa. The type of breathing associated with sleeping. He softly walked to the front of the sofa and saw a female form curled up on the sofa; she looked to be quite small and fragile to Brendan, easily breakable.

Brendan wondered as to what the relationship this woman had to the man and as such what relationship she had to the children in the flat. Could she be their mother? And was she with the man?

The best idea was to explore the flat a bit more and perhaps that would provide more answers for Brendan.

He left the lounge and walked down the small hallway that had a few closed doors coming off it. One of those doors led to a bathroom. That held no interest to Brendan, so he shut it and took his pick of the next door to open. It was a bedroom, a children's bedroom, and as Brendan looked towards the set of twin beds, he could make out three people in the two beds, even in the dark.

Creeping closer, he saw that in one bed was a girl, and in the other bed was a small boy- younger than the girl- and the man that Brendan had thought a lot about in the past few hours. The man that had disrupted the job he'd set out to do.

Brendan observed as the man's chest rose and fell in conjunction with his breathing. His full lips, which were slightly parted, were turned down into a frown and, along with the creases between his eyes, Brendan guessed it must have been a frown of worry.

When Brendan stepped back a little, he saw that the man's arms were wrapped protectively around the boy, in the way that a father would want to ensure his son was away from any harm.

It took Brendan a moment to realise it was himself that the man was protecting his son from. Not that the man could have known Brendan would be snooping about his flat whilst he was sleeping.

Still, Brendan decided to leave the room as little kids were known to be sensitive to noises whilst sleeping, often awakening at even the tiniest of sounds.

Brendan didn't want to be caught; he had entered the flat for a reason, wanting to find out about the man's connection with Danny.

Just before he left the bedroom, Brendan realised it was unlikely this man would have anything written down about these jobs he did for Danny. For starters he didn't seem the sort, judging by his house, nor would Danny even allow him to have done- more than likely threatened him in the past if he ever had anything in print. Any evidence of dodgy dealings.

Brendan's best option was to find the man's phone; that would at least tell him his contact with Danny as Danny certainly wouldn't be doing any doorstep calls.

Brendan thought back to earlier in the night, the man had pretty much come directly to his kids' bedroom meaning his phone could quite possibly still be on him, if he'd taken it with him in the first place. Brendan assumed anyone with any sense would have done.

Sure enough, Brendan saw the bulge of the device in the back pocket of the man's jeans. And in the position the man was in, on his side, it was available for Brendan's taking. He slid it quickly out, attempting not to knock the sleeping man too much.

The phone was a simple one and Brendan found the call history pretty quickly.

He'd had a phone call today from an unknown number at 11 o'clock. Brendan's phone confirmed to him that he'd called Danny before that, having the conversation about the pick-up down the alleyway.

Brendan checked the rest of the call history; the majority of the phone calls were from someone called Amy and Brendan made the connection that it must be the name of the woman in the lounge. Amy. Turns out the lad didn't have too many friends. Only a few phone calls from known numbers were from someone other than Amy.

There were a number of calls ending a few months ago that were from unknown numbers. Brendan wouldn't have thought anything of it, except the calls had always been at 11 o'clock and Brendan knew that there was no way that could have been a coincidence.

It seemed fitting that Danny would have called from an unknown number- he wouldn't want anybody tracing him through technology.

However with Danny, Brendan had always rung the same number and Danny had always been the one to answer it. Brendan figured Danny must have a phone especially for Brendan's phone calls. How awfully…sweet.

With Brendan's own phone, he took pictures of the various dates Danny had called the man, just in case he'd need the information at any point later on.

Checking the received texts, Brendan found out the man's name was Ste. Must be short for Steven.

Steven. Sounded fitting, Brendan decided as he looked across at the sleeping man.

At least he could put a name to the face. Knew who he was _supposed_ to be dealing with.

Brendan slipped the phone back into Steven's back pocket; he'd found all he needed to know.

Until Brendan was able to continue with his plan, he had a few hours to kill, and he didn't feel like going anywhere. In actual fact, Brendan felt drained.

He may have only recently had a drink, but he was mentally drained; the worst kind for Brendan. Physical drain offered a quick solution; a drink, but mental drain could only be slightly resolved from resting and closing his mind off- a talent he had developed. A bit like meditation if you wanted to put a name to it.

Brendan didn't want to bother leaving the flat- not if he was only going to hop just outside in a few hours as soon as someone woke up.

Manoeuvring around the flat, Brendan spotted an enticing wooden chair at the kitchen table which would be his chosen place of rest for the proceeding few hours.

It suited him fine.

(((x)))

Even in this... slumber, Brendan was well aware of everything happening around him- the ticking of the clock, the light snoring coming from the lounge and the movement of someone in the bedroom.

The movement of someone in the bedroom! Brendan needed to get out of there, quick.

Having a great sense of balance allowed Brendan to be out of the flat in a shot, and he made sure the window was opened to the same point it had been before.

Outside, Brendan moved around the building, appearing in front of the lounge window.

He noticed that it was reasonably early for a Sunday- the village was not yet up. Well, all except for Steven. He was fully awake, and Brendan peered through the opening in the curtains to watch Steven step over the scattered toys to come and eradicate the gap in the curtains by fully shutting them. Brendan could soon hear the lad wolfing down some cereal and eventually having a shower.

It wasn't too much later that Brendan's ears pricked up to the sound of conversation between Steven and Amy. There wasn't much said but Brendan heard Amy had been worried about Steven, and, not a moment too soon, the kids awoke.

About an hour after, Amy departed for work and Steven stayed inside with the kids; entertaining them for the most part.

Checking the time, Brendan knew he had to put the part of his plan into action: ring Danny. It was getting on for half ten and Brendan was curious to see if Danny rang Steven at 11 o'clock on the dot again.

Different to the day before, Brendan had to wait a few more rings until Danny picked up.

"Yer listen' Danny?"

"Yes Brendan. What d'you want?" Danny snapped in reply.

"Someone's rattled yer cage have they Danny? Perhaps next time they won't let ye out."

There was no answer and Brendan smirked.

"Ye know that pick-up I asked ye to do yesterday? I wan' it delivered on- ye know where. I'll be seein' ye Danny, seein' ye real soon."

Brendan didn't wait for any response; Danny knew what was being asked and he would ensure Brendan's instructions were met. Although Danny was probably wondering what Brendan was playing at; wanting to know if there was even a package to be delivered, if there was even his runner to deliver it. Or was Brendan trying to get Danny to understand what Brendan was able to do if someone did get on the wrong side of him. Meaning there wouldn't be any answer from his runner and he'd find out he'd been knocked about quite seriously.

Brendan thought about it, if Danny had been thinking any of that then he'd have been half right; there was no package...yet.

At 11 o'clock, his suspicions were confirmed-it _had_ been Danny calling the lad on various occasions at this specific time.

Brendan had followed outside as Steven had walked through to another part of his home, and was listening to Danny's half of the conversation also.

Steven lied when Danny asked if he'd got the package. The lad had some common sense at least.

Danny told Steven to take it to the usual place in twelve hours time and he would receive his money. There were a few thing about that statement Brendan wanted to question, but that would be saved for later.

For now, everything was falling into place for Brendan. Working out as it should be.

* * *

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it.

This chapter has set the ball rolling for my two stories and they will start to pick up pace-yay! Plus this chapter had some significant events happen that will have a part to play in the future.

If you're reading Captivated By His Predator I am pleased to inform you the next chapter will be up by the end of the week- hopefully Friday- as I have written it. -It's why this chapter took so long-because I was writing that one inbetween.

Just a reminder that the best idea would be to read a chapter of each story starting with Captivated By His Predator to follow both Ste and Brendan as their paths start to cross.

Again, it's a pleasure to read your comments and if you want to know something, don't be afraid to ask- I will reply :)

Bye-Bye Lovelies xxx

-SwearByStendan-


	3. Chapter 3

Realising there were hours left to kill until he had to darken that alleyway again; Brendan made a return to his warehouse.

There were some odds and ends he needed to tie up to ensure everything was in order for later on.

Upon arriving at the warehouse, he moved directly to where he could firstly change his shirt, desperately needing a clean one from when that eejit had threw the contents of his glass over the front if it.

Then Brendan went to find an empty parcel to throw his dirty shirt in- it was the only item closest at hand that he didn't care about losing. This was in preparation for Steven to be able to obtain the package later on.

As he rifled through a stash of clothing he had in one corner- where he could locate a new shirt- a folded up piece of paper fell out onto the floor. Brendan slipped on a light blue shirt and then opened up the paper. It was his own writing that had scrawled down the name and number that he read.

Now it had probably been a couple of weeks ago that the name Warren had last played on Brendan's lips; when that man had done a 'delivery' for him. 'Delivery' as it wasn't anything of consequence- it was to determine if he could be trusted. Turned out he could.

At this moment in time Brendan did have some drugs about that he wanted shifting before the new shipping came in.

He could quite easily make use of this Warren fellow and as there was no time like the present, especially since he had nothing to do, Brendan pressed the number on the slither of paper into his mobile and waited for the other end to be picked up.

"Yeah, Warren 'ere."

"Warren," Brendan paused, "It's Brendan Brady."

"Aah Brendan! What's happening mate?"

A look of distaste appeared on Brendan's face, "Yeah...Listen I've got some gear that needs taking care of. D'ye think ye can manage that?"

"'Course mate. Just name the time and place you wanna meet."

Brendan deliberated for a moment but quickly decided, "As soon as then, an' at the old lock-ups."

"Gotcha Brady."

Brendan hung up. That man had the potential to be relatively annoying, but it comes without saying in this business. Regardless, he could do a job properly so Brendan wasn't complaining. He would be useful, for now at least.

Over in the far corner of the warehouse, there were a few loose bricks waiting to be wiggled out to present the drugs behind them that Brendan would hand on to Warren. As soon as Brendan collected those, he pulled on his jacket and slipped the two packages inside.

(((x)))

Just on the outskirts of the village, there was, now a disused, bunch of lock-ups. Possibly not as disused as the police seemed to think though, as the majority had been broken into- and not just by your run-of-the-mill vandals. The site was a hot-spot for top-of-the-chain dealers to meet and exchange their gear.

Brendan arrived within minutes of leaving the warehouse and wasn't surprised to hear the rowdy conversation of several men within one unit.

Nor did he bat an eyelid at the sounds of bones cracking and howls reverberating around the area from behind the back of one of the shabbier lock-ups. It was commonplace for beatings to happen in the drug-dealing world.

In fact, under that situation was where Brendan had come across Danny; his henchmen were teaching respect to a lad in his late teens and Danny was overlooking the scene close by. Never liked to get his own hands dirty.

Brendan strode further over to one particular unit which had its front door caved in as though a heavy car had smashed into it. He brushed his hand down the curve of it, tracing the dent.

It was inside the unit to the right of this one, where the group of men were conversing. Had it been a different time for Brendan he would have listened in to see if he could hear anything worthwhile, but today he couldn't care less, so he didn't even try and make out the words.

Instead he leant back against the cool metallic door and fiddled with the lock and chain upon it. If he had a desire to he was quite capable of breaking into it without any effort on his part, but again he wasn't at all interested in what could be hidden within.

If on a conscious level Brendan had realised his surroundings had little appeal to him, concern may have burdened his head. Yet he was unable to even be aware that something was amiss. And that in itself was dangerous.

Something he wasn't entirely aware of yet was niggling at him; drawing away numerous other thoughts he would have usually had. Brendan leaned his head back and drew in an unnecessary breath. The calmness of the tastes around soothed him and he cast his mind away to a happier place and time.

The ear-splitting noise of a skidding van infiltrated the serenity of the site, for Brendan and knocked him instantly from his reminiscent state. It swerved next to one unit, practically skimming the mossy bricks. And parked just in front of where Brendan waited. Once Warren opened his door, Brendan's ears were subjected to the beats of RnB music, at least until the keys were removed from the ignition.

Brendan just looked on in disgust.

The bloke offered him a grin and a small apology, "Sorry mate, but I had to get here quick. Not my van." He winked as though he and Brendan were sharing some secret. Well, Brendan now supposed they were.

He strode over to Brendan, who sniffed- to remind himself that this man was potential blood, so he needn't get so wound up by him.

"You got them with you then?" Warren guessed.

Taking a hold of the drugs, Brendan flashed them at Warren, "Ye brought the cash?"

They completed the transaction with Brendan tucking the enveloped money into the pocket of his leather jacket.

"What did you say your name was again?" Brendan squinted at the man.

"Warren Fox."

Brendan raised his eyebrows, "Oh right...Foxy."

"Why, someone mention me?" He enquired with widened eyes.

Brendan murmured back, "Do I look like a rabbit? 'Cause only they care about foxes..."

"Eh fair point." Warren shrugged his shoulders, "Well I'll be off now Brendan, gotta make sure no police are sniffing about 'cause of this," and he slapped the bonnet of the van.

Brendan's eyes never left the vehicle as it pulled out, hitting a few empty crates behind. Warren grinned and gave Brendan a salute as he sped out of the vicinity.

It didn't take long for Brendan to follow suit and vacate the area of his own presence.

(((x)))

During the afternoon it wasn't usual for there to be lots of activity down the road of Brendan's next stop. The only seen commotion in the daytime would be from police, after having had a tip off that something was about to go down in one of the terraced houses, and so a whole bunch of police cars would begin to approach, all sirens blaring, filled to bursting point with coppers, hoping to catch a criminal activity and arrest as many suspects as possible. Then the police would feel as though they'd accomplished something for the welfare of the village; by removing these notorious criminals from the streets who all appeared to centre on this one side road.

Thankfully there were no goings-on this particular afternoon, for which Brendan was grateful. Once he turned down the road, the light seemed to darken drastically when it shouldn't have and it was eerily quiet. Brendan was still able to hear voices though; especially in the house that was his destination. It was one of Danny's go-to addresses, and the only one that Brendan used for his dealings with Danny.

He gauged there were three of them and he recognised one as being Mickey from what he'd heard about his appearance, who was one of Danny's lot. A short man, about twenty and not as yet well known by the police, but he was on their radar. For Danny, he was a good one to have around and could get himself out of trouble pretty easily- so Brendan had heard. He knew once he went inside he'd be talking primarily to Mickey.

Brendan rounded into the drive, casting a sweeping glance at the bushes covering the front. Jesus they were high. He unlocked the door and the voices subsequently stopped.

Three bodies shifted into Brendan's view and stood together at the opposite doorway. "Yeah, can we help ya mate?" The middle one of the three, who was also the shortest, asked. That was Mickey- if Brendan had his information correct.

Brendan stepped inside so they could see him better.

"Oh, aren't you Brendan? Brendan Brady?" Mickey questioned.

"That's right." Brendan smirked back, observing his surroundings. Even if people had never met him, word got around, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to recognise Brendan Brady.

The place wasn't in as good a condition as it had been in the previous time Brendan had been here- which was about a couple of months ago, he reckoned. There were damaged and dirty walls and Brendan scrunched his nose at the whiff of weeks' old dried blood dotted across the wooden floor in the corner. He preferred his blood fresh; from the source.

"Can we help ya then Brendan?" Mickey folded his arms and turned his mouth into a scowl. Short patience that one. Brendan now realised the other two men were his henchmen. One bald and one considerably fatter than the other. Maybe Brendan had underestimated Mickey's standing in the dealing world, however Mickey was underestimating Brendan; he could have them all taking their final breath within seconds if he so wished.

"Are yis around here this evening for Danny?"

"What's it matter if we are?" The lad was taken aback clearly not expecting to have to answer that, nor did he want to. Brendan held in his breath. It wouldn't do well for him to get annoyed; he wanted to find out some information and that would only be achieved if he was composed about asking.

He pressed his teeth firmly into his bottom lip and cured his fingers around the material in his jacket pocket. "Have yis got a lad coming to drop something off this evening?

Again, obviously not anticipating a question like that, he raised his eyebrows. "What? The lad Danny said to do in?"

"Did he now? Is that what he said?" Brendan stroked one side of his moustache.

Mickey shrugged and let down his guard for this reply; not feeling this conversation was of a great importance, "Well he said he don't need him anymore, so we can do what we like. And we haven't had any fun in ages." He nudged his fellow companions and with a grin added, "Ain't that right lads?" There was agreement from the other two and as Brendan flicked his eyes over to the fatter one of them, he noticed the gleam in his eye. This did not bode well for Steven.

"Has Danny arranged for anyone else to be comin' round tonight?"

"Nah, think it's just us and will be that little runt." Brendan played along, smirking as was required.

Brendan backed up as though making to leave, "Ha, well you boys have fun."

The three of them moved forwards, in a strong coordination Brendan couldn't help but snigger lightly at, he passed it off as a small cough.

Brendan opened the door just enough for him to move partly through, "Alright well I'll be seeing yis."

First mistake they made was turning around, seeming to forget already about Brendan Brady. No-one should forget about Brendan; and certainly not that suddenly.

"Stupid bastards," Brendan murmured, having already twisted on the spot. His arm came up to wind the henchman on the left- baldy- via a promising thump to the back, dislocating spinal disks in the process.

Before either of the other two could react, Brendan brought down the other henchman with a severe blow to the head, knocking him out instantly.

In mere seconds Mickey was the last one standing. By this point he was facing his attacker and visibly gulped, looking for a way of escape. His men were blocking the path now behind him, ruling out a getaway and that meant his only option left was to defend himself. He hit out and Brendan allowed Mickey to make contact with his shoulder.

Wiping off any marks made by the weak punch, Brendan turned the corners of his lips up at Mickey.

Just loud enough for the younger man to hear, Brendan uttered, "Don't think so, do you-" he took a step forward getting right in the face of his target, "Mickey?"

There was no way Mickey would have quick enough reactions to move himself before Brendan threw a fist into his stomach.

When Mickey keeled over, his arms wrapping around his waist, Brendan grabbed a hold of his head and brought it sharply back down on his knee, subsequently hearing bones in his face crunching.

He too fell in a heap on the floor.

Brendan straightened up; he wanted to move them to a different part of the house so they wouldn't be immediately noticed by anyone that entered the building.

He clutched two of the men and dragged both through to one of the back rooms and returned for the other. Once they were all in, he barricaded the door to hinder any attempts to get out in their weakened states.

Brendan needn't be concerned though; with the solidness of his body and the force behind his strikes, they certainly wouldn't be moving of their own accord any time soon.

There was some time to spare, so Brendan spent it in the house; searching for any spare money or drugs lying about. He found sparse quantities of drugs plus a large stash of money which he placed inside the brown envelope that Warren had handed to him earlier; the notes already there he tied with an elastic band and stuck them into another pocket.

Peering out of the window, Brendan recognised his cue to leave as the light began to rapidly disappear.

(((x)))

Down that alley Brendan was waiting again; waiting for Steven to come and collect the parcel he had just slipped under the bin. Why Brendan had said to Danny it would be under a bin was beyond him now, except he hadn't accounted for any of this happening; not dealing with Steven upon first meeting him and as such _never learning his name_, or trying to ensure his welfare. Even as to why that was, Brendan was at a loss, yet he still couldn't help himself.

And there he was now, his slight body appearing as though Brendan had conjured him up solely by thinking about him. A light was projecting from Stevens hand; it was his phone that Brendan assumed was to show him the way in the otherwise pretty poor lighting.

As Brendan was in a relaxed state- prepared to linger until Steven had collected the package which would be when he needed to move- he almost stumbled off the ledge upon becoming aware of a commotion at Steven's end of the alley.

Silently, Brendan descended the wall of the warehouse and neared the area where Steven was. He spied an old cat causing anguish to Steven. The feline too became known of Brendan's presence and hissed up at him. Brendan just ignored it, spotting and picking up the phone that he identified as being Steven's.

He was grinning as Steven searched the ground for the mobile and patiently waited until he noticed Brendan. It was via his shoes how Steven did; pressing his fingers around the smooth leather and then flicking his head up in realisation. And with wide-eyed fear.

Brendan gazed down at the lad, "Ye lookin' fer this?" He raised an eyebrow, regardless of knowing Steven could barely see the action.

Steven hesitantly nodded and Brendan wanted to laugh- inside he remained quite highly amused at the situation- but he refrained from doing so, not too sure how either of them would then react. He was incapable of preventing his lips from curling upwards though.

Steven was just gaping at him, mouth open and eyes confused.

"Here ye go then," Brendan shook the phone in his hand but Steven didn't even notice; his eyes were fixed on Brendan's.

Brendan stared back with as much intensity.

Eventually Steven did reach out for his phone and Brendan loosened his grip on it.

Once their hands brushed, Brendan froze momentarily. He had to get out of there. Right now. The touch of Steven's hands had come with a rush of warmth. It was necessary he moved, before he did something stupid. Whatever that may be. Problem was, his feet were refusing him and so was the rest of his body.

His eyes were still trained on Steven who was now moving to stand up and looked as frightened as ever, the colour draining from his face, probably at the sight of Brendan with a completely strange expression.

He watched a gulp bob down Steven's throat and listened to some sound he made. Then Brendan turned. Turned and fled.

* * *

'iya :) Hope you enjoyed reading and thanks for doing so!

the next chapter of Captivated By His Predator comes with more interaction between Ste and Brendan, I promise XD

and a bit of drama...ooooooh...

see ye for now xxx

-SwearByStendan-

P.S. Stendan is bloody good on Hollyoaks now innit?!


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